At The Bottom
by blueshabooties
Summary: The first thought that entered his mind as he slowly came to consciousness was that he was never going to drink again.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** At the Bottom

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** The first thought that entered his mind as he slowly came to consciousness was that he was never going to drink again.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

The first thought that entered his mind as he slowly came to consciousness was that he was never going to drink again. It was a vow that he often made in the mornings after one of his drinking binges, and one that he would usually forget about until he found himself once again heaving on the side of the road during one of his many tequila runs to Mexico. But this time he actually meant it.

It felt like the worst hangover he had ever experienced. His head was throbbing and he could feel the churning in his stomach that he learned from past experience always led to fun times with his head in the toilet. Logan tried to remember exactly how much he had had to drink last night, but he soon realized that thinking only made the pain in his head intensify. So he just gave up and leaned back into his pillow, hoping that maybe he could just sleep most of it off.

But whatever his head was resting on was way too hard to be his pillow. After a moment he also noticed that he was not lying down, but instead sitting up with the side of his face leaning against something cold and smooth. He tried to lift his head to see where he was, but instantly realized what a mistake that was when the sharpening pain left him gasping for air.

"Stay still, Logan," he heard a far away voice say. The voice sounded familiar, but the spikes of pain lancing through his brain would not allow him to grasp onto any thoughts long enough for him to recognize it. Logan felt something soft brush against his forehead and he attempted to open his eyes, but his heavy eyelids would not comply.

Slowly, he managed to slightly crack his eyes open. There was movement from the corner of his eye and he tried to focus as a blonde form came into his line of vision. She hovered over him and he watched the lights dance around her like a halo. Her hand gently touched the side of his face, causing him to wince. "Lilly," he murmured as he squirmed away from her painful touch.

The hand momentarily stilled, but then continued its tender probing. "Just stay still, Logan," she repeated. There was an edge to the voice now that caught Logan's attention and he narrowed his eyes until the face comes into focus.

"Veronica?" he mumbled. Lilly was dead, the elusive thought that had managed to worm its way through the skull crushing pain reminded him. It was not Lilly. It could not be Lilly.

Veronica's face once again slid out of focus, but he saw her silhouette nod. "Bingo."

"Where… Where are we?" Logan asked, closing his eyes as he tried to swallow against the rising bile.

"You don't remember?"

He knew better than to try to shake, let alone move, his head. "No," he groaned.

Logan heard her sigh. "Yup, definitely a concussion," she muttered.

"Concussion?" he repeated, slowly opening his eyes again.

"Yea, you hit your head pretty hard," she told him, as she pressed something to his forehead.

He jerked away from the pain. "Don't," he tried to snarl, though it sounded more like a whimper than he was willing to admit.

"Stop moving. I need to stop the bleeding," she chastised, although the pressure did somewhat lessen.

"I don't…" Logan paused, trying to remember what he wanted to say. His mind was a tangled mess. It seemed like every coherent thought was just outside of his reach. "Where are we?"

Veronica stared at him for a moment. Then she raised a hand in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He watched the blurry fingers sway in front of him. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Stop moving them."

"I'm not," she said, dropping her hand back in her lap.

Logan glared, wanting to argue with her, but he just did not have the energy. He wanted to know why she was here. Why she was helping him. Why she looked so worried about him all of a sudden even though she had not given two shits about him after Lilly died.

When she had chosen her father.

When she had helped destroy the Kanes.

When she had helped destroy Logan.

He looked around at his blurring, swaying surroundings, before his gaze fell back on her. "There two of you," he slurred, staring at the Veronicas looking down at him worriedly. His eyes began to drift shut. "One's bad 'nuf."

"Logan, stay awake," he heard her order as he felt something shake his shoulder. "I need you to stay awake until…" But he never heard the rest as her voice receded into the background and he sank into the welcoming nothingness.

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A/N: So this is a one-shot that I had been working on for forever and I could just never finish so I decided to post what I started in order to force myself to finish. For anyone who cares, I am making a solemn oath right now that I will finish this in about three chapters and then have a new chapter of Shattered up by the end of my spring break (March 15). And if I don't, you all have permission to throw rotten tomatoes at me


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** At the Bottom

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** The first thought that entered his mind as he slowly came to consciousness was that he was never going to drink again.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

"… any minute. So I need you to wake up before then. Because if you don't then a couple of paramedics are going to think that I killed the mighty Logan Echolls." The voice, that had penetrated his consciousness and made him aware of his painful existence, paused and Logan heard a deep sigh in its place. "Please," it began again, gentler this time. "The ambulance should be here any minute."

His mind cleared slightly and he slowly opened his eyes. Logan gazed blearily up at Veronica's worried face looming over him. "'mb'lance?" he parroted, coughing weakly when the words caught in his dry throat.

Veronica smiled down at him, with what he vaguely identified as relief, and nodded. "Yeah, I called one after …"

An ambulance. Logan barely realized he had stopped listening when the implication of that statement penetrated the haze of pain that was surrounding his mind. An ambulance meant a hospital. He could not go to a hospital.

Logan tried to push himself up from his reclining position, when the pounding in his head intensified to jack-hammering status. A pair of hands pushed him back down and he concentrated on controlling his panting breaths until the pain diminished to tolerable levels.

"No," he grinded out through clenched teeth. "Need to…"

"No, you need to stop before you make it worse," she said, slowly removing her hands as if she was waiting for him to attempt to sit up again. He sagged into his seat, knowing that there was no use to even maintain the pretense that he had the strength to push past her.

"Don't need an ambulance," he murmured. "Just take me home."

"As much of an impressive show of testosterone as this is, you're bleeding all over my seats and I really prefer my car to not look like a_ CSI_ set. So let's just wait until the professionals get here and see what they say."

Logan felt his eyes sliding closed and he stubbornly pushed the heavy lids up to glare at her. "Don't worry. I'll pay to clean the pleather." He managed to speak somewhat coherently, but struggled to suppress the groan as each syllable grated against his raw throat. "Look as good as the day you drove off the used lot."

He saw her roll her eyes as she turned away from him. Logan could not see what she was doing, though he could not see much of anything anyway. The black spots in the corners of his vision were starting to multiply and shift together. "Even throw in the fuzzy dice," he mumbled.

Veronica chuckled. "Already have a pair. They glow in the dark."

"Please," he rasped, the desperation and pain apparent even to him in his voice. "Home…"

He felt her hand on his cheek before he even realized she had moved closer to him. Her face shifted into his line of vision, but he found himself unable to follow her movements. "Logan, what's wrong?" she asked. "Why don't you want an ambulance?"

Logan shook his head and clenched his eyes closed. He could not tell her. He never told anyone, except for his mother and Trina. Though, neither ever believed him. Or if they did, then they just refused to acknowledge that it existed.

If the ambulance comes, and they see his bruises, then his father will kill him. Logan had first learned that in fifth grade when his shirt had ridden up while he was visiting one of his father's sets. He and his father had been talking when an extremely nosy extra came and asked them if the make-up department had painted the bruises on his side.

That was the first night that Aaron had used the belt, though it had since become a favorite punishment of his father's.

Aaron Echolls was the one person Logan was afraid of.

The one person who could truly hurt him.

"No one's going to hurt you," Veronica whispered from somewhere beside him. Logan blinked and tried to focus on his surroundings. He had not even realized he had spoken aloud.

Logan wanted to shake his head, but had enough presence of mind to remember why that would not be smart. "Everyone does," he murmured in disagreement. "You did."

"Logan…"

"I'll never forgive you," he interrupted before she could start, his voice gaining strength. Somewhere in his mind he realized that he did not want to have this conversation with anyone, let alone Veronica Mars, and yet he could not stop himself. "Lilly… I loved her. She is… was the only girl I ever loved. You told… She broke up with me because you told. And now she's dead." With that, whatever fleeting strength he had found quickly dissipated. "I'll never forgive you," he finished, coughing weakly and choking as a spike of pain in his head stole his breath.

The warm hand, which had been more comfort than he ever wanted to admit, and gentle voice were both gone by the time he caught his breath.

Silence descended around him and Logan felt himself lulled towards the comforting darkness that seemed to be patiently waiting in the recesses of his mind.

He felt his eyes slipping closed as the pull of unconsciousness became stronger.

A sharp intake of breath next to him caused his eyes to flutter back open. Logan looked up as glaring lights shone throw the windshield in front of him and he instinctively slammed his lids shut to attempt to block out the new cause of his blinding pain.

"Get down," Veronica's voice screamed next to him and he felt himself being pulled down across the seats.

A loud bang and the subsequent shattering sound sent sharp spikes of pain through his head.

Then everything went black.

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A/N: Please Review :)


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